


His Hands

by Ineffable_Sehnsucht



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Anal Sex, Being Undressed, Bottom John Watson, Clothed Sex, Coming Untouched, Frottage, Hand & Finger Kink, M/M, Mirror Sex, Rimming, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:21:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25056886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ineffable_Sehnsucht/pseuds/Ineffable_Sehnsucht
Summary: Taking Watson's fixation on Holmes' hands to a new height. The poor man won't know what to do when Holmes is through with him.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 111





	His Hands

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't expect to write another fic but, here I am again. Un-beta'd again.  
> Literary canon Watson has a habit of going into detail about Holmes' hands a lot and so this happened.

"I did not know my hands affected you so-" Holmes' lips brushed my ear.

I had failed to notice how he arrived behind me as I had let my sordid thoughts make away with me. Instead of finishing his sentence, he cupped my groin. He gave my hard prick a gentle squeeze. I felt desire and embarrassment that I'd been caught course through me.

I had been watching him from his chair. It was not unheard of for me to sit there but, I had taken to doing it when Holmes was working on his experiments. It had better light for reading, I explained. I could discreetly watch him over the newspaper and hide my reaction to my imaginings of his hands on my body with it as well.

It wasn't that I needed to hide my reactions. We had a healthy sex life as it was. It was that my mind had fixated on his hands and I was a little embarrassed. I have always had a small fixation. Even Holmes knew. He lightly teased me on occasion about my descriptions in our adventures. Lately, my thoughts had taken on a more erotic tone. Anytime his hands handled any item even remotely phallic in shape, I couldn't stop myself.

Upon hindsight, I knew when it began. We were in a cab on our way back to Baker Street. I was still half aroused from the thrill of the chase. A case we just wrapped up. Holmes took notice. I felt his hand on my thigh. I watched as he undid my trousers and pulled out my prick. My eyes refused to leave the sight of his hands working my cock to fullness. Nor could I look away as his hand dance along it. His free hand slapped over my mouth to muffle my cries. I barely had to time snatch my handkerchief from my sleeve as he swiftly worked me to my peak. When I came to my senses, I found myself tucked back in and clothes righted. Holmes was exiting the cab and I followed, hastily shoving a soiled handkerchief in my pocket.

I may never know why that occasion, out of all the times his hands have brought me great pleasure, caused such a reaction in me.

"You haven't turned a page for the last half hour, my dear," he finally spoke. "In fact, every day for the past week you have sat in this chair to read and yet, you fail to turn a single page the entire time."

Oh, dear.

Maybe I hadn't been as stealthy as I thought.

Holmes continued on, explaining to me in a low voice, as he groped and caressed me, that he had caught on to my voyeurism of his hands. That once he deduced my intense fixation, purposefully made sure to handle as many phallic shapes items he possibly could, in the hopes he might drive me to confess to him, this obsession of mine. He confessed he grew impatient with me and decided to act himself.

I should say, by this point, I was rather worked up to a frenzy. I could only sit and watch as his hands work their magic on me.

He pulled away and stood. I moaned at the loss.

"Come, my dear Watson," and he gestured to follow him into his room.

When I arrived, he bolted the door behind me and turned to the mirror above his bureau. He fiddled with it until he seemed satisfied and then guided me to stand before it.

"Watch," he breathed next to my ear. A shiver went down my spine.

He took his place behind me. I felt ridiculous standing there doing nothing but, I let Holmes proceed with whatever plans he had. I was sure they would be beneficial to the both of us eventually.

His hands started at my sides, running slowly and gently up my back and over my shoulders. His long elegant fingers curled under the lapels of my coat and he pulled it off. He tossed it to the side and it landed on a chair with a few of Holmes' personal effects already draped upon it. His hands returned to my shoulders and set to work on my cravat. He gently rid of the pin holding it in place and set it aside on the bureau and then untied the cravat. It too ended up on the chair.

Next was my collar and then he unbuttoned the first few buttons of my shirt. My head instinctively tilted as he moved to press a hot kiss to my exposed neck. I watched his hands travel down my arms. He took a brief interlude to remove me of my cufflinks and cuffs. Both finding a home on the bureau.

It was all surprisingly erotic to see his hands do what he'd done dozens of times. I wasn't sure why this time was so different.

My eyes followed as his hands came up underneath my arms and pressed their way down from my chest to my upper thighs and back up again. His thumbs brushing briefly over my straining prick. He removed my watch and chain. Holmes' fingers worked on my waistcoat buttons and it too made it's way to the chair.

I could now feel the heat of his body against my back. His lips pressed feather light kisses to my neck and his hands roamed my body. I closed my eyes and reveled in the sensations.

"You are supposed to be watching," he whispered.

My eyes opened as he began to slip my braces off my shoulders.

"Remove your shoes."

I did and quickly. I missed his touch.

When they were kicked to the side, he resumed his touch. Once again his fingers worked on buttons but, this time they worked swiftly. He jerked the tails from my trousers and slid my shirt from me.

I raised my arms as he removed my undershirt. I was bare from the waist up. He pressed his fully clothed self to me and his fingers played with my nipples. Ensuring they recieved the attention they deserved. I felt his lips press kisses across my shoulders and then my neck.

Holmes sucked harshly at the place where neck and shoulder met. I knew I'd have a mark and it made my prick jump. A mark nobody would see but Holmes and I would know about.

I wasn't sure when my eyes closed but they jerked open when I felt his hands at my trousers. Holmes teased playfully, rubbing my prick lightly, before setting to work undoing them. When he finally opened them, his thumbs hooked into the waistband of my drawers, pulling both down swiftly to my ankles.

Before I had the chance to step out of them or remove my socks and braces, Holmes' hands were kneading my buttocks. He moaned and I felt his hard, clothed prick rubbing insistently against me.

I watched our reflection in the mirror. His arms wrapped tightly around my middle and his face was buried in my neck as he frotted against my backside. His fingers found their way in my chest hair and grabbed handfuls. He did not pull so much as to hurt me but I felt a delightful sting. I heard a sharp gasp and he removed himself from me.

His hands were delicated though scarred and stained from years of abuse. His experiments often resulted in some new injury. Though, it was never serious enough to warrant serious medical attention.

They were thin but reassuring when he took my hand in the heat of a case. Always seeking to calm me when moments tensed. They were hands that contrasted beautifully within mine own.

I knew the softest part of Holmes' hands was the meaty part located below his thumb. I often planted tender kisses there. It always leads to kisses on his even more delicate wrists and up the inside of his forearms. He would become breathless and pull away each time.

Maybe my obsession with his hands had always been this intense.

His left traveled up to my mouth and I eagerly opened for his fingers. They did an imitation of what his cock would do to my arse if I had a say. I sucked and laved them in returned. He removed them and they moved to a nipple. The other made it's way to my jutting cock. Standing shamelessly proud and erect.

He teased it but would never touch the head. His forefinger and thumb stroked me back and forth until a large pearl formed at the tip. When he noticed it, a finger wiped it away. I watch us in the mirror as the finger with the pearl of my fluid reached my mouth. I knew what he wanted and obliged him. I licked it and moaned at the taste. His hips bucked against me.

My eyes were glued to the reflection of his hand. He spent a few more minutes teasing the head of my prick before he broke the silence.

"Brace yourself on the bureau." His voice was strained.

I did as he instructed, bending to grasp the edge. My arse was presented to him. I heard rustling and suddenly felt his bare cock between my buttocks. I looked at our reflections, he was still fully dressed. Holmes only unbuttoned enough to free his aching cockstand. Such stark constrast with my nakedness only served to increase my arousal.

He frotted a few times and then fell to his knees. His hands spread my cheeks and I felt him apply his tongue enthusiastically to my hole. He made me come from this once. As much as I enjoyed it, I hoped that wouldn't be the case this time. I already cleaned ahead of time in anticipation that we might be intimate. I was in desperate need of his cock filling me up.

Holmes' talented tongue licked and prodded until I relaxed. He reached for the vaseline I failed to notice. It was covered by my cuffs. He slicked his fingers and they found their way to my puckered hole. One easily slid in and after a few thrusts he added a second. He opened me with almost scientific precision. A third was inserted. Insuring I could take him with ease.

One moment I was filled with his fingers and next I was being filled with his cock. I hadn't the time to realize his fingers left me in the first place.

"Ah, John!"

I clenched around him upon hearing my name and he moaned. A moment to adjust and he was thrusting smoothly. 

We stuck with the slow pace. I relished in the drag of his cock over my prostate. But soon enough I found I needed more. I started to meet his thrusts and he took the hint.

He pounded me hard. Panting in my neck. We listened to the sounds of our frenzied fucking. It drove us onwards to our peak. We watch each other in the mirror. It had voyeuristics effects. Why neither of us thought if it earlier I was baffled.

He reached for my leaking prick but I swatted his hand away. He looked surprised and raised a brow.

"I think I - AH!" I didn't get to finish my sentence.

The most exquisite pleasure racked my body and my fingers dug into the wood I held onto. I vaguely heard my Christian name tumble from his lips as he filled my arse with his spend. My unaided orgasm must have triggered his. I barely opened my eyes to catch the look of pure ecstasy upon his face in the mirror. We made for quite the sight, the pair of us.

His beautiful fingers dug into my hip and uninjured shoulder. Bruises would certainly form and I was eager to see them. My cockstand gave one last feeble pulse causing a delightful shiver through my body.

I wanted to fall to my knees, but Holmes wrapped his arms around my waist to prevent it. A good thing. I knew my leg would object to such blatant abuse. Instead, I opted to let my head rest on my arms. That's when I saw it. My spend dripping down the front of bureau. Such distance.

We stayed connected until I could stand unaided. He slipped from me and reached for the nearest cloth, dipping it in the tepid water from the basin. He cleaned us both and then my spend. He quickly tucked himself away and came stand beside me. I watched his fingers smooth over the indentations my nails left in the heat of passion.

"Good," he smiled. "A lovely little reminder of this occasion."

He pressed a kiss to my temple.

"You must get dressed, John. Mrs. Hudson will be up shortly with dinner."

And with that he left, leaving me standing naked in my socks and a puddle of my trousers. And so I did dress. I exited his room mere moments before Mrs. Hudson arrived with our food.

We ate like starved men having worked up an appetite from our activities. 

"I shall required your hands tomorrow," he murmured between bites, eventually breaking the companionable silence that had settled upon us.

He had my attention and curiosity.

"I am in need of a good, firm spanking and a hard fuck through the bed."

I almost choked on my dinner.

"I want to feel it the next day."

I shivered.

"I think that could be arranged," I said.

My hand slapped his thigh as a hint of what may be in store. I watched him blush beautifully. It extended to underneath his collar and I'm certain to his chest.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been considering a second chapter. I make no promises.  
> Once again, thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. If you would like to find me elsewhere, I'm on tumblr at  
> koalasmashedoneucalyptus


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